


you love how i tease it

by verseau



Series: you know where your hands should be [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 15:24:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18055070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verseau/pseuds/verseau
Summary: “Say hi to the audience, baby,” Kyungsoo says, angling his fancy film major camera down at Jongin’s face, where he kneels on the soft carpet of Kyungsoo’s bedroom.





	you love how i tease it

**Author's Note:**

> been in a writing rut the past two months, hopping around three different wips with nothing done, so i tried just writing this to actually finish something and hopefully unblock. this isn't my best work. there's the slightest hint of humiliation here, but it's really minor. / this isn't really d/s, but i saw a "poll" on "twitter" that said kyungsoo is a ""hard"" dom, which is just devoid of any actual fact when he's the softest human alive, so i made him even softer than usual here in protest.

“Say hi to the audience, baby,” Kyungsoo says, angling his fancy film major camera down at Jongin’s face, where he kneels on the soft carpet of Kyungsoo’s bedroom. 

Jongin huffs. “You’re the audience.”

“So say hi,” Kyungsoo says. “You can’t be rude to the director just because you’re the star.”

“If you’re annoying, I won’t suck you off,” Jongin says. 

Kyungsoo laughs. “How long would you last before begging?”

Jongin huffs again, rolling his eyes, but there’s amusement in his eyes. “Hi to the audience.”

“Excellent listening comprehension.” Kyungsoo flashes a grin before schooling his face back into that neutral fondness. “Why are we here today, baby?”

“To get my mouth fucked?”

Kyungsoo thumbs at Jongin’s bottom lip. “Yes, but that’s not new. That’s every other day. What makes today special?”

Jongin parts his lips, lets Kyungsoo’s thumb slip into his mouth. “I want you to record me.”

“Why?”

“So I can see—“ He laps at Kyungsoo’s thumb, sucks so softly on the pad of it like some small preview of how good he’ll be. “How easy I am for you.”

Kyungsoo hums. “Is easy the word you used before?” 

Jongin’s ears tinge pink. He shakes his head; Kyungsoo’s thumb drops to rest right under his bottom lip. “How slutty I am for your cock.”

“Good boy,” Kyungsoo coos. God, Jongin loves that, the way those words curl around Kyungsoo’s tongue, the curve of his mouth when he praises Jongin. “Then shall we see?”

Jongin leans forward to undo Kyungsoo’s fly, pulling the zipper down slowly, popping the button out of Kyungsoo’s blue jeans. Kyungsoo is right, they do this every other day--Jongin learned fast, Kyungsoo still the best and most patient teacher, even though they learned together. Kyungsoo wanted to try first, got down on his knees in front of Jongin one day and looked up at him with bright eyes, said something like _so I’ve been watching videos_ and then gave Jongin what was, despite not incorporating objective skill and technique, careful and soft and subjectively the best in Jongin’s heart. Also, he came super fast, and Kyungsoo held it in his mouth to then tongue into Jongin’s, so there’s something to be said for being in, like, love… especially with someone who somehow has all the same kinks as you and is willing to try most things at least once. As far as blowjobs go, even though Kyungsoo likes giving them, Jongin _loves_ it.

He loves the hitched breath in anticipation when he presses a chaste kiss to the brief-clad head of Kyungsoo’s dick, the way Kyungsoo’s hips arch when Jongin pulls him out and takes him in hand, the breathless groan when Jongin sucks Kyungsoo’s cock into his mouth, loves the salt, that deep dirty musk that makes him want to keep his face buried in Kyungsoo’s balls all day. 

“God,” Kyungsoo sighs, “you’re the best at that, aren’t you?” He runs his free hand through Jongin’s hair, curves it down around his jaw. Jongin looks up, suckling on the head of Kyungsoo’s cock. He tongues at the slit, moaning when Kyungsoo spurts out precome, the hot stick of it in his mouth. 

“Let the camera see your tongue,” Kyungsoo says, so Jongin does, pulling back just a little and poking his tongue out, his wet lips and tongue on full display. “Swallow it.” Jongin flushes, but he does, and then without prompting, pokes his tongue out again so that Kyungsoo knows, with proof, that he listened. 

When he wraps his mouth back around Kyungsoo’s dick, he can’t help the heavy throb of his cock in his shorts, how much he gets worked up and hot for it, zero to a thousand in no time at all. He loves Kyungsoo’s cock, and he loves sucking him off, really does feel a little woozy with want whenever he gets to. He bobs slowly on and off Kyungsoo’s dick, on and off, taking in more with each push down and taking in Kyungsoo’s low sounds, the pleased sighs when Jongin takes more of his dick. 

“You’re a perfect cocksucker,” says Kyungsoo. “‘S hard to believe you haven’t been doing this for years.” Jongin rune his tongue over the underside of Kyungsoo’s dick, one hand braced on Kyungsoo’s knee and the other flexed on Jongin’s thigh. “Makes me wanna show you off.” Jongin only has a second to wonder _what does he mean?_ before Kyungsoo continues, “maybe I should set you up at a glory hole—“ and Jongin’s brain short circuits right there, “—let whoever I approve get a feel for it, fuck your throat and choke you the way you like. Hm?” Jongin whimpers around Kyungsoo’s cock, eyes watering with want and shame, too, at how much the idea turns him on. “Yeah, I know you’d like that.” Kyungsoo runs his hand through Jongin’s hair. “Or maybe I should just keep you here in my room, on your knees, always ready for me to choke you out.” Jongin lets out a long moan, head spinning and light from the thought of it, how Kyungsoo could—wants to, to use him, like that, in the best way. He has to pull off to catch his breath, forehead braced on Kyungsoo’s thigh as he pants, palming himself over his cotton shorts. 

“Jonginnie?” Kyungsoo says, voice slipping back into his usual instead of the sure, dommy one he gets when Jongin asks for it. “Are you okay?”

Jongin nods, inhaling and exhaling in measure to get himself back under control. “I’m okay.”

“Was that too much? I really don’t mean—“ Jongin doesn’t need to look up to envision Kyungsoo’s furrowed eyebrows, the downturn to his lips. 

“Kyungsoo hyung,” Jongin says, “get back to choking me out.”

Kyungsoo laughs, something soft and warm, like honey, always like golden honey, and sighs. “Okay, baby.”

This time, Jongin goes for gold immediately. He wraps his lips tight around Kyungsoo’s cock and goes down, down, the way he knows Kyungsoo likes it. Tight, wet, sloppy. There’s so much saliva in his mouth he almost gags even though Kyungsoo is only halfway in. 

“I wish you could see yourself drooling around my cock,” Kyungsoo says softly, running a thumb on the wet side of his mouth, “but I guess you will soon, yeah?”

Jongin whines, looking up at the camera with hooded eyes. He will. He kind of wants, next time, for this to be like a guiding video, for Kyungsoo to watch this and hold his head in place, make him move on his dick in possessive replication. If Jongin does poor, for Kyungsoo to chastise him and pull him off his dick, make him watch this video, watch the, the way he falls into this, every way that Kyungsoo might like, and try, try again, until he gets it right. 

“Can you take more, sweetheart?” Kyungsoo asks, big hand warm over his scalp. He curves it around to the back, the slightest pressure pushing his forward. Jongin pulls back to the head just for a second, so he can inhale and pace himself, before going back down, nails digging into Kyungsoo’s knees as he works it into his throat. This is it, really, this is everything good and right. “Good,” Kyungsoo murmurs, patting Jongin’s head as he tries to deepthroat, choking around the weight of it. There’s something vulnerable about this, but not in a scary way, just in a way that makes Jongin relax, all at once, tension leaving his shoulders, chest, the pillow under his knee almost weightless. His throat relaxes. When Kyungsoo moans and repeats, “good, perfect, you’re just the best boy,” his eyes water and his face flushes, darkening the skin and making him so, so warm. He drops his hands, rests them idly on his thighs, and looks up again with heady, dirty want. He wants to show Kyungsoo, desperately, how good, how much better, he can be. 

“Ah, God,” Kyungsoo breathes. “You want me to fuck it?” Jongin nods as subtly as he can with his mouth full. He does want it. He wants it so bad. 

He zones out, a bit, when Kyungsoo fucks his throat. He makes him take it, the way Jongin likes, shoving in and in until Jongin chokes, spit pooling around his lips, his mouth cracking with the pressure, how fast the salvia dries out. The zoning out isn’t a bad feeling; he’s aware of most things, but the experience drifts, idle, lethargic, from him doing things to things being done to him. He likes it. He feels warm.

Kyungsoo is gorgeous above him. He’s careful not to stay deep for too long so that Jongin doesn’t sore up, the softest murmurs of praise, these sweet reminders that Jongin is the best boy, which Jongin knows, without a doubt when he gets like this, since Kyungsoo tells him like a mantra. It’s still good to hear. It’s good to know. 

“Can I come inside or do you want me to pull out?” Kyungsoo asks, curling his index finger behind Jongin’s ear. Jongin chose the second but once when he was coming down with a cold, but Kyungsoo still asks every time, as patient and considerate as the beginning. Jongin stays in place. “Okay, Okay, ‘m gonna… gonna, god, Jongin, you’re _perfect_ —“ Jongin never tires of the taste. 

-

“Tell the camera how your first time was, baby,” Kyungsoo says, a soft dopey smile on his face that Jongin wants to wake up to forever. Oh, that’s embarrassing. He gets cheesy when that fuzziness fades. 

“My first time?” Jongin raises an eyebrow and wipes his mouth with his thumb. Kyungsoo licks his lips. “On camera, you mean?”

“Well,” says Kyungsoo. He pauses. Considers his bad thing, then says it anyway. “Professional camera, let’s say.” 

Jongin makes a face. 

“I have a good Shot by iPhone collection.” When Jongin scowls, flicking Kyungsoo’s thigh, Kyungsoo grins, his face so soft with it, the crinkle of his eyes, his tongue between his teeth. Jongin can’t help smiling back. 

“I’ll get soft when I get to this scene in my rewatch,” Jongin warns. 

“It’s so cute that you think you’d even last to this point.” Kyungsoo tucks himself back into his boxers and then his jeans. He doesn’t zip, and the casual tease makes Jongin, suddenly, so aware of how hard he is. “You wanna come?”

“Nah, just wanna stay here and hold communion with your dick.” He kisses Kyungsoo’s inner thigh and tries to pretend that he’s not scenting the last rings of sex and Kyungsoo’s heady release. 

Kyungsoo laughs, that same little puff of breath, and taps Jongin’s shoulder before tapping his own lap. “Get up here.”

Jongin is mostly into getting fingered or fucked, and he expects fingers in return at the very _least_ , so he’s a little disappointed but not upset when Kyungsoo runs his caneraless hand up his thigh to palm his dick. He won’t complain about a hand on his dick. What he will complain about, perhaps always, is Kyungsoo saying, having the absolute audacity to tell him, “ride my thigh if you wanna come.”

“What,” says Jongin.

Kyungsoo smiles, a quick little smirk. “It’s your choice, sweetheart.”

Jongin stares for a few moments, caught in disbelief, but Kyungsoo only stares back with a quirked eyebrow, sure and steady. Jongin hates how hot he finds this. 

Jongin licks his lips. He glances at the camera. “Can I at least take my sweats off?” They’re just thin grey cotton shorts, but he’d like to at least be in his boxers for this.

“You don’t really need to,” Kyungsoo says. “I’m sure you’ll be fine as you are.”

Jongin doesn’t flush easily, especially since mild blushes don’t show up on his skin tone, but he’s sure he must be beet-red right now, his face and neck and ears burning hot. “You want me to come in my pants?”

“If you wanna come,” Kyungsoo repeats, a gentler note to his voice, emphasis on Jongin as the determining factor. 

Jongin gets embarrassed with stupid ease, and though it’s usually second-hand from Junmyeon or Chanyeol, the way it twists in his stomach when Kyungsoo makes him explicit about his wants—it’s worse because it makes things better. 

He braces his hands on Kyungsoo’s shoulders, narrow and firm underneath Jongin’s fingers, and rearranges himself to better straddle one of Kyungsoo’s thighs, his own knees splayed close on the fabric of this threadbare loveseat in Kyungsoo’s room. He’s so hard, sparks tingling under his skin. So he rides Kyungsoo’s thigh. 

Kyungsoo leans back, maybe to better angel the camera, trained in measure between the movement of his hips and his warm face. Maybe to make Jongin work for it, Kyungsoo’s body so lax that Jongin has to increase the force of his thrusts to get enough friction. God, but it’s good when he does. His cock rubs beneath cotton, and it shouldn’t be this good, really, but—it’s Kyungsoo. 

“Do you like this?” Kyungsoo asks him, his dark eyes watching Jongin’s face. Jongin makes himself meet his gaze, sure that he looks turned out and needy. Kyungsoo liked it when he doesn’t shy from sex, such a 360 from their beginning, and Jongin liked turning kyungsoo on. So. It’s satisfying to watch Kyungsoo suck in a breath when Jongin maintains eye contact even when his breathing gets heavier, his dick pulsing wet in his boxers. Jongin nods. “Thought you would,” Kyungsoo says. “Know you like working for it, yeah?”

Kyungsoo doesn’t always play nice. When Jongin doesn’t answer, focused on pacing his breathing and not showing how desperate he might be, Kyungsoo creeps his hand under Jongin’s black tee to rub his thumb over his nipple. Jongin bites his bottom lip, but he can deal with that, he can—he can’t deal with that same steady fondness in Kyungsoo’s face even as he twists Jongin’s nipple, nail digging just slightly into the skin. “Fuck,” he jolts, but Kyungsoo doesn’t back off, just goes tighter; Jongin’s lower body jerks away, but his chest arches into Kyungsoo’s touch, a confusion, tangle, of want and hurt. “Ah, God, I’m gonna, gonna—“

Kyungsoo smiles. He flicks Jongin’s nipple, hard, too many times to count, until Jongin whimpers, face falling forward into Kyungsoo’s neck, hips rutting into Kyungsoo’s thigh, saliva overflowing his mouth. “Look at you,” Kyungsoo murmurs, “why bother pretending that this isn’t how you are, baby?” 

“Like what?” His heart is chaotic. Catastrophic. 

Kyungsoo laughs. His nails dig into the flesh, thumb and index tightening around Jongin’s nipple. Jongin shakes, face hot and embarrass by his inability to stop his noises, the hitched low moans, that deep keen in his throat that he almost chokes around. “Look at you,” Kyungsoo repeats, and Jongin thinks it’s nonsensical for a moment until he remembers the camera aimed at his face and body. Like a future loop back, a reminder that he is, that he will be watched, a thousand times over by them both. That is answer enough. 

“Baby, I’m gonna come,” Jongin pleads. His balls are pulled tight and heavy, that subtle compression from his briefs add an anticipation to his need that is undefinable. He rolls his hips erratically against Kyungsoo’s thigh. He’s so turned on. He’s so hard. He is out of his mind, maybe, he doesn’t know, he can’t think beyond feeling. “Kyungsoo, Jesus, how can,” he trails off into a moan so high and long that sounds exaggerated, pornstar-loud even to his own ears. 

“Next time,” and his cock twitches out more precome; Kyungsoo always says something stupid dirty when he begins with next time, “next time, all you’ll get is a pillow. I’ll set the camera stationary so that you can see, fully, the way your body moves when you’re begging me to fuck you.”

“When,” Jongin repeats, a question and answer at once. Again dismissing hypotheticals. Jongin loves that. He’s such a sure thing. 

“You’ll beg,” Kyungsoo promises, his mouth curled up. Jongin comes, and wonders when every time will stop feeling like the first. 

-

“You gonna record our comedown, too?” Jongin asks, sleepy. He splays out on Kyungsoo’s bed, changed into a pair of Kyungsoo’s sweats that ride up his ankle, too short but so comfy. 

Kyungsoo put the recorder down on his bedside table, and Jongin sees the faint shadow of red in the TV’s reflection. Kyungsoo glances at it, ears a little red at the realization. His tongue pokes out between his teeth when he reaches over Jongin to shut it off. Jongin is whipped. He doesn’t even care that Kyungsoo’s armpit is in his face. 

“You’re the cutest,” Jongin sighs, cuddling into Kyungsoo when he rights himself and pulls the comforter high over their heads. 

In the dim of this private world, Kyungsoo flashes a warm smile. Jongin loves when he smiles. He wants to make him smile every day. His features blur, a haziness around Jongin’s eyes that coaxes him towards sleep. “Thank you. I think you are, too.”

Jongin hums. He’s cute, sure, but Kyungsoo is perfect. Beyond. He nuzzles into Kyungsoo’s collarbone. “You know I love you, right?”

Kyungsoo’s skin warms beneath Jongin’s. “Yeah. Yeah, baby, I know.”


End file.
